


The Christmas Case

by BabysNotaProp (SuzetteB)



Series: Destiel Bingo [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Destiel fanfiction BINGO, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Public Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:37:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuzetteB/pseuds/BabysNotaProp
Summary: Castiel finds a case in the middle of decorating for Christmas. What begins as a simple hunt turns into a pretend relationship that takes a dangerous turn. Dean is excited for the chance to hold hands and do "couple things" with Cas, but can they play the part well enough to catch the monster's attention?For prompt (which includes spoilers), see End Notes.





	The Christmas Case

“A case? Now?” Dean grumbled while sitting on the flood amid a pile of tangled Christmas lights.

 

“It appears so,” Cas replied. “Sam and Jack are preoccupied with matters in Kentucky, otherwise I’m sure they would offer their assistance.”

 

“‘Matters in Kentucky’,” Dean repeated. “The Bigfoot sighting, you mean?” He flung the mess of lights into his lap in aggravation. At this rate, the Christmas tree wouldn’t be decorated until December 26th. 

 

“That’s not what they said,” Cas scoffed. “The surviving campers described it as --”

 

“Huge, hairy, and covered in their friend’s blood,” Dean interrupted, gesturing vaguely into the air as the lights lie sprawled across the floor. “They were probably high as balls and saw Sam eating berries.”

 

“It’s a wendigo, Dean.”

 

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

 

“Regardless,” Cas moved on from the conversation that was quickly going nowhere. “I’ve found something worth looking into. Couples on dates are being split up, one person kidnapped and the other found days later naked in the woods.”

 

Dean’s brows furrowed. “Yeah, definitely sounds like our thing. But… but… Christmas lights!” He held two strands up as he smirked, immediately distracted by the end he had spent twenty minutes looking for.

 

“It will all be here when we return,” Cas assured him. “I’ll tell you more on the way.”

 

Dean sighed in defeat and pulled himself to his feet. Packing his bag and cooler took less time than usual, since he was half-assing it anyway. He had no doubt Cas had found something up their alley, but at the expense of decorating the bunker? It was the first year he had gotten into the spirit enough to even look a Santa ornament in the eye. Christmas meant a great many things to the Winchesters, but cheer was generally not one of them. 

 

And who was the asshole who talked him into a tree? Who talked him into garland on the bunker railing and a goddamn wreath? That fucker in the trenchcoat over there. He complained the entire way home from the tree farm, saying the Scotch Pine was scratching up Baby and he was going to make Cas decorate everything himself. But once the tree was fastened into the stand and Dean inhaled its fresh, earthy scent, he smiled a little. And then he put an Oak Ridge Boys Christmas album on the turntable.

 

The two found themselves deeply engrossed in tinsel and stringed popcorn when Sam and Jack announced their departure. They grunted in response, not even looking up from their work in the map room. Having something else to think about besides hunting was refreshing, so Cas popping his bubble with a case was not welcomed.

 

“Explain it to me, Lucy,” Dean piped up after several minutes of silence in the Impala. They were well on their way to the first location: a river cruise ferry docked in Oklahoma City, but Cas had been eerily quiet.

 

“The first man disappeared while the boat toured through this part of the city.” Cas pointed to a wide blue line going through Bricktown on his fold-up map. 

 

“And what about his lady friend? Where’d she wind up naked and afraid?”

 

Cas swallowed. “He wasn’t on a cruise with a woman.”

 

“Oh,” Dean puffed.

 

“His husband was found in a rural county by a forest ranger.”

 

Dean licked his lip. This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. “What about some of the other couples? Were some of them guy and girl, or all guys, or…?”

 

“The monster in question seems to have a taste for men in relationships with other men.”

 

As he tapped the steering wheel with his thumb absentmindedly, Dean hummed along to Segar on the radio to hide the wheels in his head turning. He had an idea, but if Cas wasn’t on the same page, the rest of the trip there was going to get awkward really fast. He couldn’t think of a reason Cas would be opposed to the strategy, besides the fact that they had never pretended to be something so intimate before. A half smile turned up his cheek at the thought. 

 

“I think we should lure it to us,” he explained. “And to do that, we’ve gotta play the part.”

 

Cas turned to face Dean with a puzzled look. “You want to feign a relationship to bait ourselves for the monster? Dean, we don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

 

“It’ll be fun,” he shrugged. “We don’t have to do anything we’re uncomfortable with. We’ll just… act like… a couple. For long enough to catch the kidnapper’s attention.” He bit his lip as soon as he realized he had just called pretending to be Cas’ boyfriend ‘fun’, but Cas didn’t seem bothered by it, which only excited Dean further.

 

The whole concept felt exhilarating, like forbidden love or some other overdone romantic trope. Not that Dean felt like Cas was forbidden; this was just a hunt, after all. And Cas was his best friend. Yep, that was where it stopped. Totally. So why were Dean’s palms turning sweaty and and breaths short at the thought of giving him a convincing kiss in front of the crew and passengers?

 

“Dean?”

 

He snapped out of his daze and coughed into his hand for an excuse to wipe it on his jeans. He felt sticky and hot in his thick coat and turned the heat back to cool. “Huh?” he snapped, shooting a glance at Cas before running his other sweaty hand down his pant leg.

 

“I said,” Cas repeated, “as long as we arm ourselves for a variety of outcomes, I don’t see the harm in using ourselves as bait. In fact, I think it’s an excellent strategy.”

 

“Great.” His mind wandered to the small ferry they’d soon board. He had seen them before, on a case in another city with a man-made river and quaint boats full of people. He thought nothing of it before, but now he faced the fact that water was in fact, quite romantic. Other couples would be looking out onto the city lights, floating along as those stuck on land longed to be in their place. They’d walk hand-in-hand to the bow and lean on the rail, looking over the edge at the rippling water. Dean could see themselves now, the oddballs in the midst of dozens of people who were actually, really in love, and his heart sank a little.

 

He couldn’t explain the sudden sad feeling.  _ It’s just a case... Pull yourself together _ , he told himself.  _ It’s a trap for the monster. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything. _ Why did that thought make the ache worse? Was that disappointment simmering in his gut?  _ It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean anything. _

 

But what if he did want it to mean something?

 

They boarded just in time for the sunset tour. It was a full load of people, and they weren’t the only same sex couple present, so they had their work cut out for them. The tour guide tested the speaker before the small white ferry pulled away from the dock and along the canal. Dean didn’t pay attention to the man cracking jokes and reciting touristy lines over the speaker; he was busy scanning the boat for anything suspicious. The fading light made it hard to make out individual faces, but so far, nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

 

He jumped a little when Cas slipped his arm around his waist, but relaxed into it when his low voice whispered into his ear, “It’s for our cover, Dean.” Two men walked by holding hands, and Dean paid very close attention to those watching them. The other couple got an odd look from a middle-aged woman leaning against the stern railing, and a teenage girl glanced over amusedly, but nothing that set off Dean’s radar. 

 

The temperature rapidly dropped with every minute without sunlight. Dean found himself leaning into Cas’ touch unintentionally, but it was warm and comforting and very good for their image. A man and woman walked up to the bow and wrapped a fleece blanket around themselves, giggling and shivering as they made eyes. The flirting back and forth ended with their mouths on each other, and Dean sucked in a cold breath as he turned to Cas.

 

The sharp inhale reminded Dean of how cold he was. His only warmth came from that which was radiating off Cas’ body. He had no idea how much body heat Cas actually put off. It was wonderful and Dean didn’t want it to stop. And then he looked down at his mouth.

 

“Do you think we should, uh,” Dean started, eyes bouncing from Cas to the couple at the front of the ferry. When he looked back at Cas’ lips his heart fluttered at the slight smile that was starting to curl up.

 

“For our cover, you mean?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Dean replied quickly. He casually nodded and shrugged, eyes darting everywhere but Cas’ face. He licked his lips. They were so dry and so, so cold. “Of course, for our cover. I mean, the dude and chick over there are gettin’ into it. If it’s romantic enough for them, it’s romantic enough for us, right? And we’ve gotta out lovey-dove those two guys back there, so the mystery kidnapper will go for us, instead.”

 

Cas turned his whole body to face Dean, and Dean froze as Cas ran his warm hands up his neck and held his face. “Agreed.” 

 

The next thing Dean remembered was sparks. Sparks when their lips met, sparks shooting through his body, sparks addling his brain and making him lightheaded. It was like electric currents surging through him, igniting every bone, awakening a heat he hadn’t felt in years. Cas’ mouth was hot and inviting, and without thinking, he closed his eyes and tilted his head to feel it more. More curves of his lips. More scruff on his face. More hair in his hands that had found their way to the back of Cas’ head.

 

He was breathless when Cas pulled away, jolting him back to reality -- the cold, windy reality of a boat full of strangers and a monster on the loose. His mouth lie agape from the denial of being interrupted from such a kiss, like being ripped from a dream he wished he could finish. His eyes were half-lidded, drinking in the vision of the blue eyed angel with freshly mussed hair and kiss-swollen lips.

 

Cas was holding his hands. When did he grab his hands? Dean looked down and back up again. His mouth moved, looking for words, any words, but failing. His entire brain had melted. His head was still spinning from the sparks that just flew. He breathed deep in an effort to slow his raised heart rate. What was happening to him?

 

“Do you think that will suffice?” Cas finally asked.

 

“I uh, uh, um,” Dean stammered. “I think it’s… Yeah I mean, I think that was… uh…” He gulped. “I think that was pretty convincing. Don’t you?”

 

Cas gave a slight nod, taking back his hands and turning to avoid eye contact. “It should give our mystery abductor a reason to single us out.” 

 

Dean looked away as well. He didn’t mean to make Cas uncomfortable. Maybe he got too into it. He got carried away. “Cas…?”

 

When Cas looked back up at him, Dean’s mouth fell suddenly dry.  _ Should I apologize? Should I ask to do it again? One kiss isn’t going to sell us, come on. Should we do the Titanic pose? Is this the part where our friendship is ruined forever? _

 

“Yes, Dean?”

 

“Let’s… let’s go to the bow.” Dean tilted his head towards the front end of the ferry and put his cold hands in his pockets. “The other couples are there, doing their coupley stuff.”

 

Thankfully, Cas gave no pushback, and they leaned against the rail with everyone else. Neither of them spoke a word, which was good for picking out conversations around them, but did nothing for the tension growing between them. No discussions around Dean gave him reason to suspect the monster was about to strike, but he kept one eye on Cas anyway. After a while, he reached out and took Cas’ hand.

 

“Can’t have that nasty son of a bitch taking off with you,” he said.

 

Cas seemed content with the clarification, but his eyes gave a cheeky sparkle. “Perhaps you’re the one it’s going to kidnap.”

 

“Then you’ll be the one naked in the woods.” Dean quickly chased away the image. He felt guilty for imagining his friend like that. But that twinkle in those eyes. He tried to explain it away as the far off street lights or reflection of the moon, but it didn’t change the fact that he was gorgeous. Cas was gorgeous. And it was making Dean stupid.

 

He wanted to stare into those eyes until Cas asked what he was doing. He wanted to kiss the words right off his mouth, over and over, until those lips stopped protesting and only puckered in compliance instead. He wanted to touch Cas. His face, his hair, his neck. He didn’t understand it, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to vocalize it. But he wasn’t going to stop himself from thinking it. Not when he had just gotten such a kick out of a fake relationship kiss.

 

The tour ended without incident. A sense of dread washed over them as they stopped back onto the dock. If the thing that was splitting up couples wasn’t going to make its move now, then when? They intertwined fingers on the way back to the car -- you know, just to be safe -- and rode hand in hand all the way to the next disappearance location. Neither of them spoke a word of the kiss for the entire car ride.

 

Branson, Missouri. Dean rolled his eyes as they crossed into the tourist-trap laden town. Having just donned their fed suits and questioned the families of the latest victims, they followed the clues to a day spa. Their stop was two fold: to get out of these god-awful monkeysuits, and to mimic the last known actions of two boyfriends before the attack.

 

The idea of getting a couple’s massage was cringeworthy, in Dean’s opinion. He would be lying down, across from Cas, both of them in nothing but towels, with strangers rubbing their hands all over them. The more Dean thought about it, the more ideal of a place this seemed for their monster. Most people in commercials seemed very relaxed, making it easy for the kidnapper to separate them. They would be lying close, but not close enough to feel each other, therefore neither would know if the other were gone until it was too late. And they’d be pretty much naked already, so it’d be easy for the attacker to transport one to the woods and stow the other away. Or kill them. No bodies were turning up, so the final destination of one half of each couple still remained a mystery.

 

Dean was the first one out of the dressing room, so he got to pick his table. He paid little attention to the cheap decorations and ambience provided, and instead focused on every little bottle on the cart next to him. Was the monster drugging its victims? Was it lulling them to sleep with hypnosis and aromatherapy? Was it going to be like the pishtaco thing all over again with the cupping and the -- holy shit on a stick, Cas in a bath towel.

 

It was him. In a white towel. A white towel that moved with every step and accentuated his tan skin. Dean blinked hard at the shy angel emerging from the room. Cas was… fit. His chest and stomach were defined, his shoulders broad and thick, and his hip bones jutted into the towel like an arrow pointing towards areas Dean found himself filling in the blanks himself.

 

He shook himself to stop the thoughts. What was he doing? He was just imagining Cas naked. He cleared his throat and shifted on his stomach. Uh oh. Raging boner.  _ Are you kidding me?  _ Dean groaned internally.  _ So what if Cas is a big strong he-man that could totally manhandle me? Why think about that? And why does that sound so damn fun? _

 

“Hey,” Dean spoke up, then amended when the two masseuses meandered in, “hey uh, handsome. You ready?” The word sounded strange rolling off his tongue at first, but by the time it hit the back of his throat, it was sweet and smooth. He wanted to say it again, just so he could enjoy it more. Because he was. Cas was very handsome. And it was good for their cover, dammit!

 

It took a second for Cas to realize the word was being directed at him. “Yes,” he blurted back. He laid on the adjacent table and adjusted his towel. “I’m ready… honey.”

 

Dean’s brows fluttered involuntarily at the name. His cheeks reddened slightly and he turned his face straight forward to hide the brunt of his shy grin. Honey. Like from a friggin’ bee. It shouldn’t have affected him the way it did, but Dean’s stomach flipped from the sheer endearment the term carried.

 

The person above him said something about relaxing, and Dean faced Cas again for the duration of the massage. Cas looked back at him, expressions varying between relaxed and pained and intrigued depending on the masseuse’s movements. They exchanged few words, mostly just humming in response to each other’s spontaneous statements. It was different than anything Dean had ever experienced. Besides the fact that he definitely wanted another one, someday, he couldn’t get passed how Cas was so damn easy to be around.

 

He didn’t feel like he had to pretend. Sure, they were faking it, but it sure didn’t feel that way. By the end, Dean was completely relaxed and genuinely enjoying being side by side with Cas. No monster came for them. They left the facility with Dean holding onto Cas’ arm. It took them until they reached the car to realize they had walked all the way out like this.

 

“That was fun,” Dean said once seatbelts were on. Cover or not, he wasn’t being quiet about this one.

 

“Indeed it was,” Cas agreed. “I wish we could do it again, someday.”

 

Dean shot a glance his way. “Well, why wouldn’t we?”

 

Cas slowly dragged his gaze to meet Dean’s, and Dean slumped back against his seat. “Oh,” he huffed. “That’s right, this is just… It’s all just a cover, I know. But,” he paused. “We can still do stuff like this together, Cas.”

 

“As friends?”

 

The question stopped Dean in his tracks. He turned the key in the ignition and held onto the steering wheel tight, so he wouldn’t show the tension in his clenched jaw. “Is that what you want?”

 

Cas opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again as he pulled the map out of his trench coat pocket. He unfolded it and traced a path with his finger. “The next set of victims were taken in Atlanta.”

 

Dean nodded dismissively and got on the road. Cas was right. They couldn’t do this. They couldn’t be this. Whatever “this” was. It was all just a show. They needed to be what the monster wanted, to catch the thing, and save the people, and move on. A sick feeling in Dean’s gut grew as he realized this had to stop once the case was closed. He didn’t want to stop. 

 

Allowing himself to feel this way about Cas, whether or not it would end in heartbreak, was immensely freeing. He realized a few things about himself in the process. For one, he was capable of liking men. It wasn’t just an admiration, either, although instances of that still existed in his life. This was different. He found the difference between looking at a man, and  _ looking at a man _ .

 

Secondly, not just any man would do. He wanted Cas. He wanted to feel Cas’ skin, touch him, explore every inch of his body. Dean thought about Cas all the time. He thought about the way his lips felt on his, the way he held Dean close on the ferry, and the glorious display of his body at the salon. Thinking that way about your buddy wasn’t very dude-bro, but the moment of realization was fleeting. Cas was more than a buddy. Perhaps he always had been.

 

Atlanta was a busy city. How long had it been since his dad and Sam came to Atlanta on a vampire hunt? It must’ve been ages. Sam wasn’t even allowed to hunt with them yet, if memory served him right. Many things had changed, and yet, many things were the same. That’s how it was in the south.

 

They both noticed a gay couple walking ahead of them on the sidewalk. They weren’t holding hands or sporting excessive amounts of PDA, so the casual observer might’ve missed it. But Cas and Dean knew. It might’ve been the way they brushed shoulders every so often, or the subsequent smirk they exchanged. It might’ve been the effortless ease enveloping them, or the way they exchanged the occasional banter. Cas and Dean could’ve sworn the couple projected it, and made it obvious, and that it was very clear they were together. But maybe not. Maybe it takes one to know one.

 

“You hungry?” Dean asked with a gentle jab. “We should totally hit up the Varsity.”

 

Cas cocked his head, running through his food place memories. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been.”

 

“Well, now we’re definitely going. I ain’t letting your ass see the entire city of Atlanta without gettin’ cultured.”

 

Their smiles turned grim as they faced forward again. The couple in front of them had vanished. Halting mid-stride, they scanned the immediate area. People pushed past them, the world going on and not caring for a moment that they had just let two victims slip right in front of them. Cas caught a glimpse of an alley amid the crowd and pulled Dean into it after him.

 

It was dim and empty. Behind them, people walked the busy streets, ignorant of anything within the shadows that hid the searching duo. Dean flipped the lid on a dumpster and Cas peeped into an open window. No one was to be found. Dean started to panic, moving trash cans and pushing against back doors. Cas hissed at him to stop, but Dean’s worry had grown to a fever pitch. His ears rang with anxiety, the only thing in his mind’s eye being Cas disappearing before his very eyes, and able to think of nothing worse.

 

“Dean,” Cas rumbled again, this time shaking his shoulders. Dean jumped back into the present, finding himself flat against a brick wall with Cas holding him still and repeating his name. “Dean, they’re fine. They’re safe.”

 

He blinked heavily and darted his eyes around the alley. “Where?”

 

“Out there,” Cas replied as he pointed to the sidewalk. The couple sat on a bench with cups of coffee, which they hadn’t been carrying before. “They just went into the cafe on the corner. They’re okay.”

 

“Oh thank goodness,” Dean breathed, relaxing against the rough wall. Then he began to chuckle. “Dammit, those knuckleheads really got me worked up.”

 

Cas nodded understandingly. Something else was behind his eyes. Some intent, some words that had been left unspoken for far too long. “I thought… I thought that --”

 

“--You were going to be next,” they spoke in unison.

 

The air filled with silence as they stared disbelievingly at each other. Neither could quite believe what the other had heard, and so they stood, waiting for the other to go back on their word, but neither did. They both meant it. And not for their cover. Dean fisted Cas’ lapels, and Cas flattened himself against Dean’s body and grabbed his face.

 

They both grunted into the rough kiss; hands demanding and selfish; tongues licking into each other’s mouths hungrily. Dean wrapped his arms around Cas’ neck and pulled him even closer, not able to get enough. He wanted him pressed so close, there would be nothing between. His hands grabbed Cas’ hair and pulled, changing the angle of his face and turning his chin up.

 

But Cas had his own ideas. He pinned Dean to the wall, strong arms on either side of the man’s shoulders. He gave no leeway as he invaded Dean’s mouth, lips marking his territory and tongue staking claim to every inch of his mouth. Dean gasped as Cas dropped down and sucked on his neck, leaning his head to the side to let Cas have free range. 

 

Cas’ tongue on his skin was like a trail of fire, heating him up, consuming him. Through it all, one word screamed through his mind, and one word only:  _ Cas _ . His body burned with it, set his core ablaze, ignited a low hum deep within him. And when Cas sucked hard on his sensitive skin below his jaw, he groaned with the need for more.

 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean whimpered. “Do it, mark me. Fuck, yeah. Please. Do it.” He writhed against the brick wall as Cas bruised him with his mouth, body moving just enough to recognize the hardness in both of their pants.

 

He grinded against Cas instinctively. It was graceless and mindless, but neither cared. This wasn’t for show. This had been on Dean’s mind ever since spa day. And if the way Cas reacted was any indicator, he wasn’t alone.

 

Instead of moving his hips in return, Cas hoised Dean into the air by his ass. Although startled at first, he wrapped his legs around Cas’ waist and groaned in appreciation at the feeling of their erections rubbing together between layers of clothes. Cas slammed him back into the wall, in full control of their movements. He pushed and pulled and thrusted against Dean, letting out a guttural huff on the passes when their cocks rubbed especially close.

 

“Dean,” he moaned in his ear. 

 

The sound of his name was thick, dripping like honey from the lips that just marked him. “Talk to me, Cas.”

 

“Dean I’m… This is… not for the case.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but Dean replied anyway, with a laugh. “No, no it sure isn’t.”

 

Cas groaned again, each drive up growing faster. “Dean.”

 

“Cas.”

 

“Dean, that kiss on the river cruise was real. I was just too afraid to tell you.”

 

“I know,” Dean whispered, tilting Cas’ head up so he could kiss his panting lips. “I was afraid, too.”

 

Dean let their mouths fall apart as their breaths grew shallow. Cas buried his head in Dean’s neck, wholly focused on the pleasure between them. Dean dropped his hands from Cas’ neck to their pants, the friction between them soon becoming a mess of clanging metal and flailing fabric. He took both of their cocks in hand, the sudden skin to skin contact sending a jolt through Cas. Both of them pressed together in Dean’s tight squeeze was so good, he had to take a long inhale to make the white spots clouding his vision subside.

 

Cas’ hold on Dean faltered, and Dean slid onto his feet and jacked them both at a pace that allowed Cas to simply lean against the wall and take it. “Dean…”

 

His teeth gritted in concentration. “Cas --” he hardly had time to say before thick ropes of come streamed on both of their shirts and coated Dean’s hands. He groaned through every stroke, working them both through their high, until both cocks were red and spent.

 

Cas looked up from the crook of Dean’s neck with glazed over sapphire blues. He sighed. “That wasn’t for the case, either.”

 

Dean erupted into laughter. It was weak from post-orgasm bliss, but it was giddy and content and it was theirs. “Better not’ve been, ‘cause that felt pretty damn real to me.”

 

The next moment must’ve been a blink they both shared, because in that split second, it was all gone. Atlanta, the alleyway, the brick wall, and each other. Dean fell onto his back on a patch of grass, looking up to see trees. To his left, right, back, and front, everywhere, trees. He bolted up, fixing his pants and darting his eyes across the green terrain in horror. His nightmare had come true. The monster had taken him.

 

“Cas!” he yelled. “Cas, are you there? Cas!”

 

Leaves crunched beneath his feet as began searching his surroundings. His higher brain knew it was useless to check behind every tree and scream out his name, but he ignored it. He climbed a low branch and checked the trees from a little higher up; he climbed back down and carded his hands through ferns and bushes. He repeated Cas’ name over and over, each time a little softer than the last, until an hour into his search found him muttering it under his breath in a helpless chant.

 

Dean stood upright abruptly. Something was wrong. He was clothed. All the vics were found naked. He was the only one not naked… yet. He trudged through the forest, alone with his thoughts. Did something in each forest strip them before they were found? Or was this some kind of weird glitch in the matrix?

 

“Something’s not right,” he mumbled to himself. He paused at a muddy splotch and noticed a footprint. It was large and neat, like that of a dress shoe. A spark of hope dared to stir. “Cas! Hey, Cas! I’m over here.” He rummaged through some low-lying branches. “Whoever’s got Cas, I’m gonna kill you, do you hear me? You stupid ass motherf--”

 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” a snarky voice behind him bellowed.

 

Dean whipped around. He furrowed his brows in astonishment, then stomped towards the troublemaker with clenched fists. “Gabriel, what the hell? What the actual, fucking hell?”

 

The archangel wiggled his fingers in salutation. “Hey, lover boy. Little bro says hi.”

 

“Give him back, you creep,” Dean spat, now towering over Gabriel. “Cas and I were on our way to gank your ass for what you did to those other couples.”

 

“What other couples?” Gabriel shrugged. “I made all that up for your benefit. No harm, no foul.”

 

“Like hell,” Dean growled with a finger in Gabriel’s face. “You steal one dude, send him to… not even your dad knows where. And the other guy winds up ass-crack naked in this joint, and… Hold up.” Dean backed off a step, which allowed Gabriel to stand upright again. “You created those sons-a-bitches outta nothing just to fuck with us?”

 

“Well, the idea was to get you to fuck each other, but,” he threw his hands up in defeat, “I suppose frottage and a handjob count for something.”

 

“Ew, you really are a creep.” Dean’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “What was the point, huh? Couldn’t stand the thought of me having a nice, normal Christmas at the bunker with Cas? You just had to rear your ugly head and make up some crazy case, just to get me outta the house? Again, man. What. The. Hell?”

 

Gabriel laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder, which he promptly brushed off. “Listen, pal. You and Castiel have been dancing around each other for a solid decade. Think about that. You two’s love story has outlived death, countless big bads, and a freakin’ apocalypse. And all this time, you’ve been afraid of letting loose. Am I right?”

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “And?”

 

“And I got tired of watching. It’s been like, the slowest burn. Ever.” 

 

“Where’s Cas?”

 

“Have you ever read fan fiction, Dean?”

 

“Where. Is. Cas.”

 

“It’s very therapeutic. So much so that I decided to make my own, in order to make my ultimate pairing come to fruition!”

 

“You are a sicko, you know that?”

 

“No no no,” he railed off quickly. “Listen. Cas is fine. The couples that you were trying to save and all their families are fake. They’re my made-up reality. The case was designed to require you to fake a relationship in order for you to catch the monster.” He extended his hands in a “ta dah” motion. “But in doing that, a few truth bombs fell on ya, didn’t they?”

 

“You know what? You can screw all the way off. Bring Cas back.”

 

“I will, tough guy. I promise. Just humor me.”

 

Dean sighed long and breathy, head tilted back in surrender. “Fine.”

 

“So, tell me what changed. What basic, principle part of you is different now?”

 

Dean thought for a moment. “Nothing.” Gabriel smiled back at him. “Nothing about me changed. I just got a chance to do mushy couple stuff and… I took it.”

 

“Ah,” the archangel exhaled. “Music to my ears. You always had it in ya, kiddo. You just needed a clear-cut chance to see it. And you did.”

 

“Alright, enough kumbaya,” Dean gestured dismissively. “Gimme Cas back or I’ll deep fry your feathery ass in holy oil and we’ll have ourselves a potluck.”

 

Gabriel wiggled his brows. “Enjoy fifth base, you lovebirds.”

 

“Hey, wait. What is fifth --” 

 

As soon as Gabriel disappeared, Dean heard a rustle of leaves behind him. He spun around to see Cas, hair messy, tie flipped, and pants buttoned but unzipped. They wasted no time falling into each other’s arms, finding comfort in each other’s presence and assurance that they were not doomed to the fate they had thought.

 

“Your idiot big brother holodecked us,” Dean explained, still clinging onto Cas. “He made up the case so we’d pretend to be a couple.”

 

“I see,” Cas responded, not at all like Dean imagined. After the embrace, Dean noticed Cas’ slight smirk. “Although I do not approve of Gabriel’s methods, you have to admit his ends are justifiable.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“The case was real.” The two walked through the forest, which gradually grew less and less dense, until the sounds of traffic could be heard from just beyond a wall of foliage. “But it wasn’t the one we originally thought. We went through the same motions we would with any other hunt: We questioned the relatives. We played the part. We adjusted the tactics to meet the requirements to ensnare the monster. And we did, Dean. I believe we did solve the case. But the case wasn’t a monster out to hurt people. The case was us.”

 

Dean pursed his lips. They emerged from the forest by a highway mile marker. Several hundred yards away, Gabriel had dropped Baby safely off the road. “So you’re telling me Gabriel sent us on a hunt to find… each other?”

 

“It appears so.”

 

“Huh,” Dean huffed. He intertwined his fingers with Cas’ on the short walk to the car. When he saw Baby in spotless condition and ready to roll, he lost the last bit of rage and slumped into the driver’s seat. He and Cas sat for a moment, the happenings from the last few days catching up to them. It was like walking out of Narnia and back into real life. 

 

He knew what he had to do. “When we get back,” he declared, “we’re gonna keep doing this.” Dean reached across the seat and took Cas’ hand.

 

“Not for our cover?” Cas asked playfully.

 

Dean kissed his hand. “Not for our cover. C’mon, let’s go home and finish that tree.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for Destiel Fanfiction BINGO. Square filled: Gabriel helps "sail the ship." 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Ideally, this story would be about 25k words longer, but my muse didn't awaken in time for me to attempt that. The prompt is a spoiler because once you throw Gabriel into the mix, you pretty much know the story's going to get crazy. xD Hope you enjoyed it!


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